It was mid-December when the snow began
To the beat of Jack Frost’s clapping hands
Making all that saw it dance like his puppets
For he is the master of the winter white ball
Manically he laughed creating many shivers
The annual uninvited guest had returned
That malevolent jester that is seldom seen
Same bad old jokes but new tunes to learn
So again he clapped his hands again to snow
Changing the tempo from waltz to foxtrot
Filling his cold and empty heart with delight
Not even the sunshine could melt this one
Stomping his feet that made rippling cracks
As all slipped and slid trying not to fall down
Leaving a strange sweet taste sweet in the air
Hypnotising some to actually enjoy his games
Where is freedom from his prison with no key
Even the trees had turned into his white guards
The answer lay in shaking salt on the streets
Burning his dancing feet and made him scream
The tremors could be felt throughout the world
All he tried transformed into puddles of water
He had lost but vowed to return stronger and wiser
And like a phoenix of ice he shattered into pieces
© Fi S. J. Brown
Tea and Ponders 